Here I Am
by dragonbaby
Summary: Draco Malfoy is unsatisfied with his life. Ginny Weasley is desperately lonely. Each one needs the other more than they're willing to admit. Chapter six now uploaded.
1. An Unpleasant Reunion

A/N: There's a serious lack of good Draco/Ginny stories out there. So I'm either contributing to the solution or making the problem worse. And I'm going to continue it no matter what, because it's one of those things that won't leave you alone till you write it, but I WOULD appreciate feedback. It tends to motivate me to work a lot faster- okay, enough shameless review-begging here. For now. Now one thing I absolutely despise is good Draco, so you'll see none of him. He will become slightly... Dunno if _nicer_ is the best word, but he won't always be _this_ nasty. But the kind of Draco who gets along perfectly with Harry and Ron and instantly turns his back on his entire upbringing the instant he realizes he's always been wrong will never play a part in _anything_ I write. And a lot of D/G shippers seem to support R/H- in just about every D/G story I've read there's R/H on the side. I am a rabid H/H shipper. Now I don't like fics that center on more than one couple, so Harry and Hermione are not especially central to this story, but they _are_ together. So don't say I didn't warn you. Oh yeah, there's a reason Draco's a bit antisocial- not that he was especially sociable in the first place- but all will be revealed in time. 

****

Chapter One

"Yes, they're sending me out on an actual assignment," Ginny repeated, wondering why this simple fact was so hard to comprehend. "Really Mum, I'll be _fine_. Don't worry about me." 

"I can't help worrying, Ginny. You're my youngest child, and my only daughter- oh _do_ promise me you'll be careful."

"Ginny'll be fine, Mum," said the twin across from her who was claiming to be George, although Ginny had her suspicions- with the twins, you never knew for sure. "She's not a _total_ incompetent, not like- er-"

"Not like Ron," supplied his identical counterpart. 

"Is it really fair to make fun of Ron when he's not here?" Asked Bill, grinning.

"No," said Fred. "But he can't object."

"And it's so _easy_," agreed George. 

Bill was on a month-long vacation from Egypt, and Ginny, along with the twins, didn't have any pressing appointments. So many family members being free on the same night was a rare occurrence in the Weasley family- all four were glad for the chance to catch up with each other. 

"Dad," Ginny appealed.

"I'm sure Ginny can take care of herself, Molly," said Arthur Weasley. "She _is_ twenty one years old after all, and she _has_ gone through three years of training- I'm sure we can trust her."

"Thanks," Ginny said.

She was wildly excited, but also slightly nervous. Her three required years of Auror training finally complete- three long, dragging years that, at times, were absolute hell. She sometimes wondered if it had been worth it, if this was really how she wanted to spend her life. It wasn't as though she wasn't devoted and prepared to follow through- she just wasn't sure she was suited to the life she'd chosen. Ginny was more a thinker than a reckless action taker. 

Still, she'd be doing something for the good of the magical community. And she was determined to do it as best she could.

No matter what.

***

_No matter what_ came three days later, and made her doubt her career choice all over again. 

She was summoned to the office of the head of her department- a balding man named Steward Graham whom she intensely disliked. 

She almost resigned then and there.

***

Draco Malfoy had chosen to work for the Department of Mysteries for two key reasons.

First of all, no one is his family had been a member before, and several people had implied that he'd be horrible at it. Rather than wanting to prove them wrong, Draco still possessed in full the obstinate qualities that had made many people his enemies.

The second reason was that it meant he wouldn't have to talk to many people. That was what he'd been told, anyway.

He entered the office of the Auror that the memo on his desk had instructed him to Apparate to. Draco wasn't an Unspeakable; he didn't hold an especially high Ministry position, but...

That was the part where he was supposed to tell himself that he was happy anyway. He wasn't. It wasn't the money- he had inherited enough of that. He felt useless. Like he'd never done anything really worthwhile, and the one time that could possibly count no one knew about, and it was almost by accident.

So there was some case that required detective work and defense- it wasn't especially uncommon for the Ministry Aurors to help the Department of Mysteries. He swore under his breath as he walked down the hall- he preferred his anti-social office position. 

There was a middle-aged man sitting behind the desk- _Christ_, hadn't the guy heard of hair-growing potion? Draco thought he'd go blind from the light shining through the window and bouncing off the man's head. 

On second glance, he noticed the office had another occupant. A vaguely familiar redhead who was close to his age, looking as if she'd just been informed that she was to be escorted to Azkaban under full Dementor guard. Frankly, Draco would be happy to arrange it if it meant he would be left alone. 

"Malfoy?" Asked the man whom Draco was forcing himself not to think of as _Baldy_. 

It took him a second to realize the man was verifying that this was his name. He nodded.

"This is..." he'd obviously forgotten the redhead's name. "You'll be working together. I believe we were sent some documents pertaining to this case- show them to her, then she'll file them."

He turned his attention to his desk, dismissing them both.

Draco followed whatever-her-name-was out into the hall, wondering if she talked. 

"It's Ginny," she said, answering his unspoken question. "Ginny Weasley." She spoke as though she had long ago resigned herself to people forgetting her name.

Pitiful.

"You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

"Obviously," he replied. "I thought anyone would recognize that. Even your boss knows my name, which is more than _you_ can say." 

Ginny bit her tongue. "Maybe you should show me those papers," she suggested.

He shrugged and started walking. After a few steps, Ginny called, "You're going the wrong way." 

He turned back angrily. Was the little weasel _laughing_ at him? 

"I don't want to be with you either," she said, picking up confidence. "So the faster we finish this assignment, the sooner we can ignore each others' existence." 

"The best idea a Weasley ever came up with, I'm sure," Draco snarled, following her.

Draco and Ginny had never exchanged more than a sentence at a time, so his opinion of her had never moved through the various degrees of dislike he held for most people, other than the contempt he felt for all things Weasley. But now he hated her. Hated every hair on her head, every freckle on her face. Obviously no one here cared about their appearance- first Baldy, and now her. Couldn't she _do_ something about those spots?

***

Aside from her working life, Ginny was generally happy. She didn't have a great number of friends from her year in Hogwarts, but it didn't bother her too much. She enjoyed solitude- being the youngest child and only girl in a family with six brothers had made her self-sufficient, dating back to the days when no one would play with her because she was a _girl_. Ron had once told his best friend, Harry Potter (whom Ginny had had a longtime crush on, until her later years of Hogwarts) that she never shut up- but that really depended on the person she was with. 

A knock sounded on the apartment door. "It's open," she yelled.

Hermione Granger would probably never have become aquatinted with Ginny if Ron hadn't been one of her best friends. Luckily he had- they'd been around each other so much that they had managed to form one of those rare friendships where each felt completely comfortable in the other's presence.

"I could have been anyone, you know," said Hermione, looking around for Ginny and realizing that she couldn't see her because she was reading on the couch in the living room off of the kitchen where the entrance was.

"You weren't." Ginny placed her book on the end table and stood up. 

"And if I was?"

"The door sticks when I open it so I leave it unlocked when I'm here. There's a stunning charm on it. I just have to point my wand and say the right words to activate it." 

Hermione, who had come out on the wrong end of Ginny's stunning charms- which she was a bit overly enthusiastic with- once or twice in the past, winced in memory. "I brought back that book you lent me."

"When did I lend you this?"

"Oh... I don't know." It was an extremely thick encyclopedia volume, dusty with age- the other books in the set had either been long ago destroyed or lost, excluding the one that was currently serving as a coaster on the coffee table. 

Ginny grinned. "How many times did you get through it?"

"Four or five."

Ginny placed it on the shelf, hoping she wouldn't need it for a while. _Organize bookcase_ had been at the top of her mental 'to do' list for weeks, but she never got around to it. 

"You in a hurry?"

"No," replied Hermione.

"Stick around then. I haven't seen you in a while."

Hermione sat down on a chair opposite the seat that Ginny had resumed. "How's the Auror thing going?"

"Horribly."

"Ron told me you were excited because you were actually getting to _do_ something." She smiled. "His words, not mine." 

"Yes, but guess who I'm being forced to work with?"

"I don't know. How bad can it be? Unless of course it's Malfoy or someone."

"Bingo."

Hermione looked startled. "_Draco_ Malfoy?"

"The one and only."

"That evil-" she cut herself off. "He's not an _Auror_?" 

"Department of Mysteries. Someone's been raiding the high-security Gringotts vaults and a couple of the missing items have turned up on Kockturn Alley. You still hate him?"

"I really don't know. I'm definitely not fond of him."

"Why _would_ you be?"

"I don't know- Harry seems to have a certain ammount of respect for him."

"Why?"  
"I have no idea. Something happened a few years ago- right before Harry defeated Voldemort. Malfoy was involved. Harry won't talk about it."

"Wonder what it could be?" Ginny mused. "Must be pretty big if he won't even tell _you_ about it."

"He doesn't tell me _everything_."

"Oh?"

"He's incredibly paranoid about those secret Quidditch strategies- which is fine with me. Which of your brothers is visiting? Bill?"

"Yeah. He keeps saying I should come see him- I couldn't last year, when everyone else did, because of that stupid training. Maybe I will. Sometime."

"Where in Egypt?"

"Somewhere... I don't know really. It changes. There's a fairly large magical community springing up there, mostly because of the Gringotts branch- they've discovered some new source of gold- I don't know much about it- that they have a lot of people working there."

"I've read about that. They just opened up a school there."

"Reestablished it. One of the first schools of magic there were; built in a pyramid or something."

"Interesting. I'll look it up in the library at Hogwarts."

"Ah. How's that going?"

"Sometimes I love it and sometimes I want to strangle the little monsters with my bare hands. All of them."

"Well Arithmancy is a hard subject-"

"And the Slytherin class is the biggest set of demons you'll ever lay eyes on."

Ginny laughed. "And to think Malfoy came out of the same house."

"If he's as bad as any one of them," Hermione said, "I can't blame you for hating him."

"I do, I do."

***

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Everyone who was anyone in magical society (and most who weren't) knew those names.

They'd been together since Hogwarts days, the closest thing to a perfect, romantic couple a pair of Slytherins could be. 

Or so everyone thought. Including Pansy herself and even Draco at times.

After all, he'd achieved what every appearance-obsessed wizarding aristocrat needed; A house with so many bedrooms it was inconceivable what you'd ever _need_ them for, enough money to help a poor South American family live rather extravagantly for several generations (and absolutely no desire to do so) and a girlfriend who was as rich as he was.

So why, sitting in the most expensive restaurant Hogsmeade had to offer, with one of the most sought-after people in society, did he find himself incredibly bored?

She was doing all the talking. Draco sometimes amused himself during these conversations by counting how many times he had to respond. He could usually get by with one or two-word answers- Pansy never realized the difference. Indeed, she thought Draco was a wonderful conversationalist.

He glanced at his watch, figuring he could last another half an hour before falling asleep.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Did you here what I said?"

"Yes, I did. I agree with you."

"Really. I mean, look at how the Ministry's gone down hill. Didn't you tell me you're working with one of those Muggle-loving Weasleys? The youngest one? What's her name?"

"Ginny."

"Right. How is it? Working with her?"

"She almost never talks. Probably couldn't carry on an intelligent conversation if she tried."

_Then again, _he thought, _I've yet to have an intelligent conversation with Pansy, and she never shuts up. Which is worse?_

"Muggle-lovers like that shouldn't be allowed to do such important jobs. They should be kept among the pure-bloods."

"The Weasleys are pure-blood." He wasn't defending them. Just stating a fact.

"Yes, but-" unable to think of another contradiction, Pansy changed the subject.

Draco managed to get through two more hours saying less than fifty words before he was able to go home.

_Why do I do this to myself?_

Do what?

Put up with Pansy. It's not like you're in love with her.

Stop that. You're a Malfoy. Hardened. 

And if I'm not?

Then you'd damn well better act like it if you don't want to disgrace your entire family.

He fell asleep after several hours, briefly wondering if it mattered that he had no family left to disgrace just before he dozed off. 

***

Miles away, Ginny couldn't sleep either.

It was one of those restless nights when you desperately want to sleep, simply so that you don't have to think anymore, but your thoughts are so involved that they won't let you sleep...

Rain was spattering heavily on the roof- her apartment was on the top floor of the building. She wouldn't have slept even if the night had been clear, yet now she had a reason. Or an excuse. 

A burst of thunder came seemingly out of nowhere, and she stiffened. The last thing she wanted was a storm- thunder had terrified Ginny more than anything when she was younger- she still wasn't overly fond of it, though not many people knew this. It was completely irrational, as Percy had told her a thousand times. There was absolutely no reason to-

A loud cracking sound ripped across the sky and she whimpered.

What was Malfoy doing now? She wondered out of the blue. 

_Oh God, can't he leave me _alone_?_

Then,

_I feel sorry for him._

What the hell?

But I do.

Ginny rolled over on her back.

_There's no way I'm going to sleep tonight, _she thought wearily. And she had to get up early tomorrow, her boss wanted her to investigate some shop on Knockturn Alley... with Malfoy, no doubt, he whom she both hated and pitied. Rather illogical, really; _she _Ginny Weasley, pitying Draco Malfoy. She didn't feel like thinking about it.

Ginny fumbled around the junk on her catchall bedside table before finding her wand, and whispering, "_Lumos_." With that, she shone it around the room to find the real light- Muggle apartments ran slightly cheaper than those in the wizarding world, so she could afford a more comfortable one this way. 

She lazily flicked her wand at the switch. Nothing happened. The electricity must have gone off.

Lightning flashed and she counted the seconds between the flash and the inevitable roll of thunder that made her shiver involuntarily. 

Using her wand to light the way, she stumbled blearily to the living room. She could have magically lit the ceiling lamps, but any Muggles on the street might find it suspicious. 

She wasn't sure why she'd come in here anyway. She sank down on the couch and stared out the picture window- traffic below was the only artificial light she could see. 

She stared at the bookcase, wondering if her restlessness was the motivation that she needed to get it organized. No. She wanted a _distraction,_ not a chore. 

She shone the beam from her wand along the rows of books, hoping one would appear interesting enough to pick up and read until enough time passed so that she could get ready for work, however early, or she slept. None appealed to her. 

She stared blankly at the wall, not quite able to make out the pictures in their frames in the darkness, other than the basic outlines she'd memorized. In truth, this wasn't the first time she hadn't been able to sleep like this and ended up staring at the wall. 

The one in the top left-hand corner was of her brothers, taken by herself at a picnic (her excuse to not be in the photograph). Next to that was one of her entire family in front of The Burrow. A couple people from her year in Hogwarts- she did have one or two friends she kept in touch with on a regular basis from her dormitory, then below it...

Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She was in the picture as well, but usually stayed in the background, almost as an after thought. It had been taken last summer, in front of some lake they'd been at for some function or other.

Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating the room. In that instant, she could see the picture clearly. She was sitting outside the frame and only her left foot was visible. Ron was examining a mosquito bite swelling up on his arm. Harry and Hermione were the main focus of the picture at the moment. Their photographic selves seemed oblivious to anything other than each others' company, his left arm entwined with her right one, both smiling over some private joke.

She closed her eyes. Sometimes abandoning her bed for the couch cured her insomnia. Not tonight, however.

Harry... 

It had been years since she'd forcefully abandoned her crush on Harry. Ironically, the week after she'd managed to convince herself that she _did not care_ was the week Harry finally took notice of her as something other than his best friend's little sister. 

She'd been fifteen. It was six years ago, and they'd dated for three months. She'd been more self-conscious in those months than ever before, and she'd discovered something then that she'd known but never completely believed.

Harry Potter was human. He had faults. And one of them was that he was annoying as hell as a boyfriend.

It wasn't anything he did, specifically. More of a basic personality conflict- although somehow he managed to get along perfectly with Hermione and she had more differences with Harry than Ginny ever had. 

In the end, she'd been the one to break it off. And she saw the masked relief in his eyes- he'd been trying to think of a way to do it himself without devastating her. She annoyed him as much as he her, and he was rather self-conscious himself

Oddly, this experience had provided them with the ability to be comfortable around each other. Harry was wonderful as a friend, but thoughts of him in any other category were banished to the most wistful corner of her mind. 

At the end of his sixth year, he and Hermione had finally swallowed their pride- they were perfect together, really. They got on each other's nerves at times, but less so than people who'd known each other for years usually do. 

The loudest clap of thunder yet crashed wildly, so loud that she felt the vibration shake the building's sturdy foundation. 

At that moment, she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. 

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and anyone or anything else existing in the Harry Potter books. I own this story and Steward Graham, whom I don't like, but he's mine just the same. And yes, the next part will be out relatively soon- reviews will be much appreciated. *Puppydog eyes.* 


	2. Graveyards and Ice Cube Trays

A/N: Nope, no romance yet
    
    A/N: Nope, no romance yet. Trust me, when it gets to that point, you'll know. Some in the next chapter and a snog or two should be coming up soon. Although Draco gets good and mad in this part. He's so sexy in those moods, isn't he? And Ginny goes slightly insane. Blame Draco! He and Ginny are writing this, not me. They've teamed up to take over my brain and have informed me that things are going to go _their_ way, so if I think my ideas are better than theirs I can go stick my head in a pig. (Ten points to anyone who can tell me where that's from!) I'm just providing the keyboarding skills.
    **Extremely Important: In the last chapter, I stated that Charlie was visiting the Weasleys. THIS WAS A MISTAKE! If you look, it was corrected to read Bill. You'll find out why this is relevant- and that's the last time I write while instant messaging- I'm sorry.
    **_
    I'll always remember
    It was late afternoon
    It lasted forever,
    And ended too soon
    You were all by yourself,
    Staring up at a dark gray sky
    I was changed
    In places no one would find
    All your feelings so deep inside
    It was then that I realized,
    That forever was in your eyes
    The moment I saw you cry
    The moment that I saw you cry...
    It was late in September,
    And I'd seen you before,
    You were always the cold one
    But I was never that sure
    You were all by yourself
    Staring up at a dark gray sky
    I was changed
    In places no one would find
    All your feelings so deep inside
    It was then that I realized
    That forever was in your eyes
    The moment I saw you cry...
    I wanted to hold you,
    I wanted to make it go away,
    I wanted to know you,
    I wanted to make your everything, all right....
    I'll always remember...
    It was late afternoon...
    In places no one would find...
    In places no one would find,
    All your feelings so deep inside,
    It was then that I realized,
    That forever was in your eyes,
    The moment I saw you cry...
    ~ Mandy Moore- Cry_

"Where to next?" Ginny asked. 

They'd been moving along in a kind of cold efficiency, speaking only when necessary, communicating more be motion and various degrees of irritation on their faces. 

Draco motioned to a bookstore across the street. "We've got to see if they've got some book that went missing." He handed her the paper he was holding, snatching back his hand immediately so their hands wouldn't touch. 

Ginny scanned the paper. It was around six in the evening, and every other item on the list had a neat check mark next to it- even his handwriting seemed cold. She sometimes found herself involuntarily shivering- whether from the chill of the last October evening or his presence, she didn't know.

"So that's the last one?" 

Some instinct that came with being a youngest sibling made Ginny want to annoy the hell out of him, so when he responded with a quick nod, she said, "A verbal answer wouldn't be too much to ask, would it?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to."

"Let's get this over with." 

"That," Draco remarked, "is the one sentence that keeps me sane."

He didn't exactly seem to be talking to her, so Ginny didn't respond. 

Two weeks of this, and they hadn't thawed towards each other one bit. True, Ginny had _tried_ to be civil to him, but he didn't exactly make it easy. 

If she could have read his mind, she'd have been rather surprised.

He hated her still. More than ever- but the reason was a rather different one. 

He had to _work_ to be nasty to her. This had never happened before; normally the insults rolled off his tongue before he knew he was saying them. But there was always a slight pause with her, enough time for her face to gain that self-satisfied little smirk that he despised. 

And he didn't know why, which, possibly, was the most annoying thing about her.

She was looking impatient. How dare she? A Weasley, get impatient with _him_? 

"Are we going or not?"

He was irritating her. Good.

"I suppose."

The shop was closed. 

"Damn," Ginny muttered. "Guess we're done. Give me the list. I'm owl it over to Graham."

"What makes you think you can order me around, Weasley?"

Ginny sighed. "Because Graham is _my_ boss. Much as I don't like him, _I _have a responsibility to do what he tells me."

He handed her the piece of parchment. "Happy?"

"Quite."

They walked in silence down the street- it was important not to attract attention, doing what they were. Apparating could be traced, and a pair of people who didn't frequent Knockturn Alley very often would be too noticeable.

Once on Diagon Alley, they each Apparated home without saying another word.

***

Draco hadn't made many changes to Malfoy Manner since inheriting it, feeling a sort of apathetic pride towards it. The décor was the same, the furniture arrangement was unchanged, and the cold atmosphere was as it had always been. He wasn't exactly fond of the house, but it blatantly advertised his wealth, properly impressing and intimidating those that needed to be impressed and intimidated. 

It was traditional for whoever was in control of the house to inhabit the master bedroom, but this was one tradition Draco had ignored. It reminded him too much of his father, his presence still dominated much of the house. The question of bedrooms didn't present a problem, however, as the house had twenty-nine of them. Draco still used the room he had as a child, on the second floor overlooking the back of the extensive grounds. 

A marble statue of Lucius Malfoy graced the landing of the staircase, enchanted so that the eyes followed anyone who passed. It was enough to give anyone nightmares- Draco suspected his father had intended this. He usually avoided this staircase, but it was the most direct route to his bedroom and he was too tired to care. 

His bedroom was dark. This meant he didn't have to waste energy on drawing the curtains; he was too tired anyway. He flopped on his bed and listened to the sound of his own breath for a few minutes.

A banging sounded against the window. He cursed silently, hoping it would go away. 

It didn't.

He went to the window. A screech owl was flapping outside, one that he recognized as belonging to Pansy. He'd always thought the owl's species rather appropriate, judging by its owner's vocal range. Draco had seen some bad-tempered owls in his lifetime, but Pansy's was downright evil. He wondered if it had anything to do with belonging to her.

It occurred to him that he shouldn't be thinking this way about his girlfriend. He forgot about it a moment later when the owl dropped the letter on the floor and swooped out.

Slamming the window shut, Draco spat out a few more choice profanities. He then turned his attention to the parchment on the floor.

_Draco,_

Meet me at the Three Broomsticks at nine tonight. I need to talk to you.

Pansy 

Nothing else. No reason, no polite request, it wasn't even an order. Pansy was like that, informing someone they were going to do something instead of merely telling them. 

Sometimes, Draco wondered why he put up with her.

***

She looked impatient. As always. He sat down across from her at the table she'd claimed,

"Draco," she greeted him.

"Hello, Pansy."

"How are you?"

"I'm all right, I suppose. How are you?"

"I've been better, Pansy." Why bother lying? 

She was silent for a few minutes. A waiter came to the table. They ordered butterbeer. Still silence. 

"Draco..."

"Yes?"

"I needed to talk to you about something." 

"I assumed that, Pansy. The owl nearly breaking my window was sort of a dead giveaway."

"Well..." she hesitated. "It's just that... well, Draco, I really don's think we're working out."

He stared.

"It's just that we're too _different_. You're so _quiet_."

"Am I?" So she had noticed his attempts to not make conversation. And misinterpreted them. "So I suppose you want to break up, Pansy?"

"To put it that way, yes."

He looked her in the eye. A strange, dead calm had settled over him.

"Goodbye, Pansy," he said.

She didn't reply.

Draco cancelled his order, then left the Three Broomsticks. 

So. 

He was reacting oddly. She had grown tired of him. Was that allowed? Was the incredibly shallow girl allowed to ditch the incredibly shallow guy?

Was he shallow? No, not shallow exactly, not naturally, but he'd been acting the part so long that he had become shallow. Or at least extremely close to it. 

He wandered around the streets of Hogsmeade for a while, and somehow ended up at the gates of the cemetery where his father was buried.

Well. This was turning out to be a fun day.

He turned in the gate. It wasn't as though he had anything else to do. 

Lucius Malfoy's grave was one of the most noticeable in the cemetery. No expense would be spared for a Malfoy. 

God he hated this place.

"Are you happy, Dad?" Draco whispered. "Look where you ended up. Just where you said I would, because I was weak. If I'm so weak how come I'm here and you're there?"

Movement. A rustling sound- leaves in the trees, of course.

He started up the path for the entrance, telling himself he did not hear footsteps behind him.

_I don't._

I don't.

There's nothing there.

Draco stopped moving.

There was a sudden impact on his back. He and the figure both shrieked in surprise. He spun around.

"Weasley?"

"Malfoy?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?" Good. Let her know he was mad. 

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Well, after spending seven hours in your company and then getting dumped by my girlfriend, I decided I'd round off the perfect day with a trip here. What's _your_ excuse?"

"I came here to see if it was any worse than working with you. Evidently it is, as you won't leave me alone!" 

"My father's luckier than I thought. At least he doesn't have to put up with you." 

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy."

"Bitch."

"Stop stalking me."

"I have _much_ better things to do than stalk weasels like you."

"Like what?" Ginny challenged, fuming. "Your own girlfriend got sick of you! Pansy must be smarter than I gave her credit for. No _wonder_ no one likes you."

She pushed past him and stomped down the street. He stared after her.

How dare she insult him like that? How dare she? 

Part of him, though, knew she was right. 

"Weasley," he called.

"What?"

"You win."

She turned around, looking at him with contempt. "I win _what_?"

"You're right."

"You're crazy."

"Maybe."

Oddly enough, this was the closest that Draco Malfoy could come to a full apology.

***

Kick the door. Throw the plastic cup against the wall. Smack the tabletop. Punch furiously at the air, wishing that it was _his_ face. 

Why couldn't she get him out of her thoughts? When anyone else made her angry, she reacted coolly, never losing her temper. All she needed to get over it was to do something distracting, but everything she picked up she felt like ripping apart. 

His face crowded her thoughts, those cold eyes stared into her even when he wasn't there.

God, those eyes.

Those eyes.

_Stop it! You're obsessing over him, this isn't healthy! _

She filled a glass with water and grabbed an ice cube tray from the freezer. Ice reminded her of his personality, and she threw it on the floor.

Ginny then realized that the people directly below her might not appreciate all this.

Too bad for them. That was how angry he made her, that she, one person, wasn't enough to contain it. 

Suddenly an idea came to her and she started laughing hysterically, until she was gasping for air. 

***

"Hello, Malfoy."

He grunted in response. 

"I have an idea."

He didn't respond. He was busily deciphering some message or other, something her Auror skills didn't really help with. 

"Well do you wanna hear it?"

"Not especially."

"Too bad."

He looked at her. "What do you want?"

"I want to call a truce."

He stared at her. "Are you insane, Weasley?"

"Quite so," she replied calmly. "And it's all your fault. Now humor me before I turn dangerous."

"All right, then, what sort of truce?"

"We stop insulting each other until we aren't required to spend time together anymore."

"All right."

She was surprised, but didn't show it. "And we also stop calling each other by our last names."

He gave her a disbelieving look.

"Weasley could be any one of my family, you know. Whereas you're the last Malfoy that I know of."

Draco restrained himself from telling her that perhaps no one thought her family was important enough to remember all of their names, then said, "Fine. Any more terms?"

"You shall not refer to me as Weasel, one of Harry Potter's rejects, or anything else of the sort. I will refrain from coming up with better insults in response." She giggled.

Draco stared.

"I told you, I've gone insane. A rather dangerous level of insanity. I have to buy new ice cube trays because of you." She laughed hysterically.

"All right. You want a truce?"

"Yes."

"Fine. We have a truce. But it only lasts as long as necessary." 

"Of course." She hopped down from the windowsill where she'd been sitting. "Only as long as absolutely necessary."

Hopefully, that wouldn't be very long. 

***

Draco settled into a routine. Wake up. Go to work. Not fight with Weas- Ginny. Go home. 

With no Pansy in the picture, and no fights, his life grew rather monotonous. But slightly more pleasant than before, though he couldn't detect the source of this change.

Over the next three weeks, he and Ginny remained true to their promise not to insult each other. He found her a rather interesting person, when, for a few minutes at a time he forgot that she was a Weasley and he was a Malfoy and they were required, by tradition, to hate each other.

He was still cold. But he was beginning to thaw.

Ginny managed to calm down, stop throwing things every time she thought of him. He still made her incredibly angry, with his opinions and his apathy towards everything. It was as if he were an emotional void that couldn't ever be filled.   
Although somehow the void had diminished. Not by much. He was still cold, still a complete slimy bastard. Or so Ginny told herself. And in some respects, she was right. 

It was an early November morning when Ginny asked him, "Why were you in the cemetery that night?"

"I just ended up there."

"Isn't your father buried there?"

"Yes."

"Why isn't your mother?"

"Are you always so nosy?" But then he lied, "She's buried with her family. What were you doing there?"

Ginny paused a moment. "My brother, Charlie is buried there."

"The one who died fighting Voldemort?"

She looked surprised at the mention of the name, but nodded. "I was visiting a friend from Hogwarts, and passed by, and..." she shrugged.

Silence prevailed. 

Disclaimer: Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Charlie and Ginny Weasley, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and anything else from the books HP related are J.K. Rowling's. I own Ginny's ice cube trays- or perhaps I shouldn't say that, so she doesn't come after me demanding I replace them. 

Thanks: (I've always wanted to do a thanks section. Be afraid! Be VERY afraid!) Amanda Macini (you wanted more, you got it!), darker child (I agree; good Draco must die!) Princess of Mordor, Anya Malfoy, Katy Burrito (wow, you reviewed without reading! Most people do the opposite!), Water Sprite, otaku, Harry Potter chic, Meagan Malfoy, justinzgirl, laureli, Roxy Cherub (I Love Cassandra Claire's work!) Gemini Mari Finnalle, Figaro (I know how hard it is to put up with a ship you don't like- you rock!), Draco's Draca, and Gabrielle Landry. 


	3. "Helas, Je me suis Trasfigure Les Pieds"

A/N: So NO ONE knows what I was referring to when I mentioned being told to go stick my head in a pig

A/N: So NO ONE knows what I was referring to when I mentioned being told to go stick my head in a pig? Hmph. Review or I'll sing the little bird song. And I have no scruples about stopping at verse five. (Okay, you might not get that unless you've been to camp as many times as I have... and to think in two years my friends and I will have graduated the CIT program and actually be running the place!) I just love the below song- I'm shamelessly hooked on pop and country music. If you don't like it, skip over it, but there are so many songs of those varieties that fit Draco and Ginny so well! I'm rambling. Guess I'd better stop... Oh, and for some reason when I did a bit of editing I managed to cut out the song for part one. It was supposed to be _Carlene_, by Phil Vasser, in case anyone cares. 

__

Don't think that you got me, girl,

Don't think you can tame me, and change me,

Don't think that it's all because of you,

Just because I don't run around

Just because we're forever together

Don't think of a four-letter word to use.

So what if I just don't want anybody else but you?

So what if you're all that I ever really wanna do?

I know what you're thinking but that doesn't make it true,

Believe me baby...

I'm not in love, no not at all,

What makes you think you made me fall?

I've slipped but no, I'm not in love,

What if I just can't sleep at night,

I see your face in the starry sky?

So high above...

But girl I'm not in love.

Don't think that you got it made

Don't think it's so easy to keep me,

Never know, it could all just fade away,

So what if I just don't want anybody else but you?

So what if you're all that I ever really wanna do?

I know what you're thinking but that doesn't make it true...

Believe me baby...

I'm not in love, no not at all,

What makes you think you made me fall?

I've slipped but no, I'm not in love,

What if I just can't sleep at night,

I see your face in the starry sky,

So high above...

But girl I'm not in love...

So if my heart just skips a beat...

What if I lose a little sleep?

Believe me baby,

I'm not in love, no not at all,

What makes you think you made me fall?

I've slipped but no, I'm not in love,

What if I just can't sleep at night,

I see your face in the starry sky,

So high above...

But girl I'm not in love...

~ BBMak_, I'm Not in Love_

"Weasley!"

A month ago, Steward Graham came in at a close second on the list of people Ginny most despised. Now he was back up to first. For some reason, she was no longer capable of despising Draco. Not for lack of trying, mind you. 

She gritted her teeth and entered. 

"Hello, Weasley," he said.

_Whaddaya want, Baldy? _She thought. She _said_, "Can I help you, Mr. Graham?"

"Actually, you can. I was asked to represent the Department of Defense tonight at the theater in Hogsmeade, but I can't attend, so I'd like you to go in my place."

Ginny happened to be the only Auror in the building at the moment, so she suspected that it was more a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time than anything else.

"All right," she said evenly, her brain already working on ways to get out of it. 

"Malfoy's also attending. Better to have representatives from two branches of the Ministry."

"Yes, Mr. Graham." _God, I'm starting to sound like Percy. If I ever start quoting him, I'll throw myself off a cliff._

"Any problems with that, Weasley?"

_Only a few dozen, Baldy. _"No, Mr. Graham."

"All right then."

***

Draco did not like crowds. He hated the way they moved like a single entity, a mass of people with a collective brain. He hated the way that, no matter what, someone was always pushing you from behind and you couldn't go ten seconds without being stepped on or otherwise abused.

"Did I mention I hate crowds?" He said aloud.

"About eight times in the last ten minutes," Ginny replied pleasantly. "_Do_ stop whining before I'm forced to decapitate you with my program."

That was another thing that annoyed him. Why was the little weasel being so nice? Not the general amiability she showed to everyone, but as though she liked him in particular, as a person?

And why was he allowing himself to put up with it? 

"You don't want to be here any more than I do, huh?" she continued.

"I thought that much was obvious."

"Well then. I've got a better idea."

"What?" he asked warily. 

"Let's not go." 

He stared. 

"It's quite simple, really." She gave him a rather contemptuous look. "Don't tell me you couldn't think of it?"

"Do you always skip out on things you don't want to do?"

"Just when a middle-aged balding idiot's ordered me to waste a perfectly good evening sitting inside some dusty theater."

Draco almost laughed. He caught himself in time. 

"I've seen this a thousand times," she continued. "And this isn't even the English version. Do you know French?"

"No."

Ginny cleared her throat. "_You know, Crapaud, that I am to be Keeper this morning. Who will stop the Quaffle if I do not?"_

"Grenouille's the most annoying character in the whole play," Draco snapped.

"I've always liked her. Better than Crapaud."

"You would," he muttered. "Okay, so we leave. And go where?"

"Dunno. Wander 'round till we meet some evil Slytherins and throw rocks." 

And why this _we_? Why was there no question about separating upon leaving?

"Let's go, then."

And so they left, rather unscrupulously. However, they were not yet on friendly enough terms to be comfortably bored in each other's company.

"I need to talk to you," Draco announced suddenly. She looked at him. For once, the default empty chill was gone from his face, the expression he always had when there was nothing to irritate him, anger him.

"Okay," she agreed.

They ended up in front of a small café, sipping butterbeer. Both absolutely silent, until Ginny, in what Draco thought an absolutely tactless manner asked, "So. What did you want?"

Actually, she'd known it would annoy him. For some reason getting him angry was incredibly fun. Not to mention the way his eyes flashed was almost unbearably attractive...

_Whoa, Ginny. This is Malfoy. _Malfoy_, you idiot. He's about as attractive as a German schnauzer. _

She smiled endearingly, hoping inanely that it would aggravate him further. 

"I wanted to ask you," he said firmly, "why you're being so..."

"Bitchy? It's a natural talent."

"Amiable. Pleasant. _Nice_. What's in it for you, Wealsey?" 

She stared at him, all traces of her desire to annoy the hell out of him gone. "Nothing."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I thought we had a deal about last names."

"Ginny. Fine. What's in it for you, _Ginny_?"

"If I gave you the real answer, I'm afraid it would make you very angry."

"But isn't that just what you'd like?"

She looked at him, pained. "I can't."

"Of course you can."

"I can." Ginny stared at her fingernails. "But I don't want to." She gave him another sample of her wide stock of teasing grins, trying to hide behind the sarcasm. "I'm afraid it would hurt your feelings."

He just looked at her coolly, until she muttered something.

"Sorry, Ginny. Didn't quite catch that."

"I feel desperately sorry for you."

"Is that all?"

"You aren't exactly used to people being friendly to you, are you?"

"Not at all." _Why_ wouldn't his facial expression change?

"I didn't think so."

"The question remains," Draco said. "What's in it for _you_?"

Perhaps she'd been spending too much time around him, or perhaps there were some latent qualities to Ginny's personality that rarely surfaced. At any rate, she proved quite as good at giving icy stares as he was. "I think, Draco Malfoy, that deep down even _you_ have good qualities."

"And of course, you'd like to find out what they are. How heart warming."

"No. I just want to see if I can get you to all-out lose your temper instead of using your endless collection of sneers."

He shook his head. "The day you do that, Weasley, is the day I fall head over heels in love with _you_."

"Can I get that in writing?"

He shook his head. "You just don't give up, do you."

"Only because I want you so badly, Draco," she replied sarcastically. Then she replied, changing tones yet again, "I'm finding myself liking you. And there's really nothing you can do about it."

She grinned yet again. To her credit, it was a quite nice grin without any trace of sarcasm or nastiness about it.

Perhaps that was why Draco found it so unnerving.

***

"I told you, Gin, I don't know anything!"

"But you're his best friend!"

Ron gritted his teeth. "Ginny."

"Yes?"

"I. Don't. Know. A. Thing."

"Well that goes without saying." Ginny scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at her brother. It was the first week in December, and she'd shown up at his house unexpected, demanding information, which he agreed to give on condition that she helped him shovel the driveway.

She flopped down backwards on a drift and asked, "Why do we have to do this the Muggle way?"

"Because," Ron explained patiently, "the people across the road are Muggles. Their kids think there's something odd about the man across the street. Their parents are inclined to agree with them."

"They saw the fireworks shooting out of the chimney that time, huh?"

Ron winced in memory. "Last time I ask _you_ to give me a cooking lesson."

"I told you I didn't know how to make lasagna!"

Seeing her on her back and unarmed, Ron took this opportunity to throw snow at her head.

"So you know nothing about Malfoy? Nothing?"

"He's a slimy evil bastard. What more do you need to know?"

"Hermione told me Harry doesn't hate him."

"So ask _her_!"

"She doesn't _know_!" 

"Well then if Hermione doesn't know then why do you think I would?"

"Because you're his best friend!"

"Look. Gin. Malfoy was involved somehow in the whole situation with Harry killing You-Know-Who. I don't know how. I'm assuming he did something to help our side, but Harry promised him he'd never talk about it."

Ginny breathed out heavily. "It took you that long to spit that much out?"

"Yeah, well, it's all I know and I probably shouldn't even be telling you that. What's this sudden fixation with him, anyway?"

She sat up. "I do not have a fixation with him!"

"Sure you do," said Ron. "Look, Ginny- don't get too closely involved with him."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Ron shook his head. "He's got you... hypnotized, sort of."

"Does not," Ginny replied childishly. 

"Not hypnotized, then. More like a cat playing with a mouse."

"Who's the cat and who's the mouse?" Ginny asked.

Ron sighed. "Good point. Knowing you..."

"Thanks." 

"That wasn't a complement."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't care. I mean, getting him angry is so irresistible. I guess I want to be able to get a real reaction from him, but he's just so _cold_." 

Ron looked sideways at his sister. "Just be careful, Gin. Don't do anything without thinking."

"I'd never do anything without thinking."

They both knew she was lying. 

***  


Ginny absolutely despised paperwork, but she more or less had no choice than to do it, on occasion. 

She sometimes got the feeling that Stewart Graham hated her as much as she did him.

All she was after was a spare bottle of ink. Fate had decided that she didn't deserve it, and instead was punishing her. Maybe it was for inflicting pain on those poor ice-cube trays.

Ginny wasn't claustrophobic, but being locked in a pitch-black closet for the better part of an hour was unnerving, especially since she had no idea whether or not anyone would open the door and let her out. She'd tried pounding on the door, but apparently whoever had built this building had seen a need for silence in order to help its occupants concentrate on ridding the wizarding world of evil.

Damn soundproof charms.

Footsteps outside the door. She pounded on it, knowing it was useless.

Another set of footsteps. "Steward, how are you?"

Oh _shit_. 

Naturally the Auror-supervisor who's official title Ginny always forgot would pick _now_ to make an inspection.

"Fine, Mr. Lombard, just fine. How are you?"

"I'm all right. Did you manage to spare someone for the Knockturn Alley situation?"

"Er, yes, Weasley. I didn't think she was especially vital to the rest of us..."

"Arthur Weasley's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Old Muggle-lover. No wonder the daughter's none too bright..."

If Graham replied, Ginny didn't hear. She lividly muttered the charm she'd been reluctant to use before, one that would break the door down.

The two men just stared at her stupidly. Robes wrinkled and dusty, face steaming under her fiery hair, eyes looking like a pair of coals in her face, Ginny was downright scary.

"I," she breathed, "quit."

And with that she stormed out.

***

Draco guiltily admitted to himself that he was beginning to enjoy spending time in Ginny's company. She was completely different from anyone else he'd known and the biggest difference was the way she fought with him. He'd argued with countless people, but the difference lay in the fact that, instead of to prove him wrong, she seemed to do it for her own personal satisfaction.

As though she enjoyed it.

And she felt sorry for him.

And no one would tell him where she was.

And this angered him _very_, very much. 

Why wouldn't Graham give him any information? "She quit," he'd said. "You're dismissed," he'd said. "It's none of your concern," he'd said. 

God he hated that shiny-headed idiot. 

Back to office paperwork, Draco had found himself extremely bored. And as no one would tell him anything about the whole Ginny situation, he was becoming worried.

So he decided to find her. 

Disclaimer: Graham and Lombard, whom I both hate, are MINE AND YOU CAN'T HAVE 'EM! Whoa. Sorry. Last time I eat my little sister's pudding... Draco, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione are all J.K. Rowling's.

Thanks to: Hallie Marie (Dunno if you liked it, but hey, you reviewed.) Ally the Sugar Fairy, (Sorry 'bout the pudding, but how did you manage to burn it? J/K, J/K) rocket_queen_12, Nice, Baal extremely evil, DarkKnight, wm_law, and SWMF. (All the lovely people on ff.n and the D/G website who reviewed.) And the guy at the 'N Sync concert who gave me free bubblewrap. He had nothing to do with this, but hey, I like bubblewrap.


	4. Search

A/N: Mariel got around to doing some actual romance! Ginny and Draco still can't go two paragraphs without bickering, but it's a step in the right direction. And there's a new flavor of Crème Savers- raspberry- and they're the best yet. Not as good as Mariel's beloved Wint-O-Green lifesavers but still pretty good. So Mariel's in a really good mood. Know what else puts Mariel in a good mood? Reviews. (Hint hint.) She writes faster when she's happy. Mariel is talking in the third person... Mariel is very very sleep deprived. Mariel is starting to reconsider her vow to not drink coffee. 

On the edge looking over

All I see is a four-leaf clover

Maybe a sign of things to come,

Should I jump, or should I run?

__

After I fall, where do I stand,

After my heart is in your hands

And you've got it all

After I fall, where do I stand?

After I've loved you all I can

Will I stand tall?

After I fall...

It's as clear as a blue sky

I don't fear you telling me a lie

So I'll become your only dancer

And let the sunrise bring the answer

After I fall, where do I stand?

After my heart is in your hands

And you've got it all

After I fall, where do I stand

After I've loved you all I can

Will I stand tall?

After I fall...

You're a move I wanna make

You're a chance I'm gonna take

You're every dream rolled up in one

After I fall, where do I stand?

After I've loved you all I can

After I fall...

After I fall...

After I fall...

Lee Ann Womack- _After I Fall_

"'Ey! You gonna buy that, buddy? This ain't a library!" The witch behind the counter turned her attention back to Ginny and said, "So go on." 

Ginny sighed. "I don't think this is the best place to talk about this, Sylv."

Her companion was one of her closest friends from her year in Hogwarts, Sylvia Forbes. Sylvia owned a bookstore on Diagon Alley, and happened to get bored rather easily. Ginny had known that, and had also known that upon entering she wouldn't be allowed to leave for at least half an hour, but had gone in anyway. It wasn't as if she'd had anything _else_ to do. 

"Sooooo." Sylvia brushed back a lock of her blonde hair, which Ginny had often suspected wasn't natural. "You _quit_ and didn't zap Graham with a Jellylegs curse or anything?"

"Jellylegs was funny when we were... what, thirteen?"

Sylvia shook her head. "Seen Malfoy lately?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I?"

"Gin-_ny_." Sylvia made an irritated sound with her breath. "You mean to tell me that you managed to spend nearly two months seeing him every day and _nothing_ happened?"

"I set his hair on fire once."

"You don't think he's-"

"No." 

"Not-"

"_Look_, Sylv. There's nothing between us! _Nothing_! And even if I _wished_ there was, do you think there's the slightest chance of him feeling the same? He's a complete-" Ginny paused. She couldn't think of a suitable adjective for Draco. "He's a _Malfoy_."

"I know. Sorta a Romeo and Juliet romance."

"Who're they?"

"Shakespeare. Muggle thing."

"Ah." Sylvia had a Muggle-born father. 

"And there _is_ no romance." 

"Sure," Sylvia replied absently. "Listen, Gin, if you're not busy I've got a favor to ask f you."

"Depends on what it is."

"I've gotta go out of town for a few days next week, so..."

"So...?" Sylvia often took an agravatingly long time to get to the point. 

"So wouldja mind watching the shop for me?"

Ginny considered. Again, she had nothing else to do. Job-hunting had so far proved unsuccessful. 

"Sure." 

"Oh, Gin, thanks!" Sylvia jumped up, once again distracted. "Hey you! I told you before, this ain't a library! Are you gonna buy that or what?"

***

"Potter."

Harry turned around. Being insulted by Draco Malfoy wasn't on his list of priorities today. Even though he had a certain ammount of respect for Draco, he still really didn't like him. 

"Yes?"

Harry was sitting alone in front of a café in Muggle London. It was cold, as it was late December, but that meant he was less likely to be bothered. In front of him was a diagram portraying a Quidditch field- he'd come here because there was less chance of someone recognizing the famous Harry Potter and bothering him. 

Draco hadn't even been looking for Harry, but passing down the street he'd caught sight of that annoyingly famous scar-face and decided it wouldn't hurt to talk to him. 

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

Draco sat down, uninvited. Harry sighed.

"Are you friends with Ginny Weasley?"

Harry looked at him oddly. Whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't it. "Yes."

"You see her brother a lot, right?" Under the circumstances, Draco didn't think it sounded right to refer to Ginny by her first name and Ron as 'Weasley.'

"Yes." Harry was clearly going annoyed. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Where is she? Did something happen, to her?"

Harry sighed again. "She's fine, Draco. Why wouldn't she be?" 

"Because obviously the fact that her boss won't tell me anything about me indicates that everything isn't fine!"

"She's an Auror, Draco. That _could_ call for some secrecy, you know."

"Listen, Potter. _You owe me_. If Granger went missing and you thought I might know something and wouldn't tell you, wouldn't you be angry?"

"Ginny is _fine_, Draco. And what do Hermione and I have to do with anything?" Harry paused. "And how is that remotely connected with anything to do with you working with Ginny?"

Draco didn't realize what he'd said until Harry replied, and by that point it was too late to rephrase it. 

"You're either dumber than I gave you credit for, Potter, or lying your ass off." Draco stood up and walked away angrily, heading for an alleyway safe from Muggle eyes, in order to Apparate home.

Ten minutes later, Harry was once again interrupted, this time by a light touch on his hand and a soft weight setting on the bench next to him. 

"Hi," said Hermione. She smiled at him and said; "Sorry I'm late."

"Late?"

"You told me to meet you here at one."

"That was the sixteenth," Harry replied blankly.

"Today _is_ the sixteenth, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I knew that."

Hermione shook her head, smiling affectionately. "You're hopeless."

"Mmm." Harry paused. "Anything wrong with Ginny?"

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"Malfoy was just here. Seemed to think I knew something about Ginny _disappearing_." 

Hermione blinked, unable to think of a suitable reply.

"According to him, something's happened to her."

"I was just talking to her yesterday, that's impossible!" 

"I know."

"Sounds as though he's finally snapped," Hermione muttered. "You know, I always thought he might... Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Can we go inside? I'm freezing. I'm sure no one's going to bother you about Quidditch _here_."

Harry smiled at her. "Let's go."

***

Ginny moved mechanically through the storage room of the bookstore, organizing several orders that had arrived. She wasn't worried about anyone entering, since she'd flipped the sign to 'closed.' Sylvia would probably forgive her for closing ten minutes early, and even if she wouldn't, odds were she'd never find out. Ginny wanted nothing more than to go home, conjure a fire in her fireplace, and lay on her back on her window seat. Perhaps she'd fall asleep there, watching the think clumps of snowflakes falling. Perhaps she wouldn't move from that spot all night, just stay there and stare into the white-speckled black sheet of sky until morning. Sylvia would be back, then, so she wouldn't have to worry about coming here... Perhaps she'd get some Christmas shopping done, and for once not have to wait for the last minute. Christmas was still a week off. Maybe she could find space for more decorations in her already overly Christmassy apartment, decorating enthusiast that she was. 

This storage area wasn't heated and Ginny could see her breath in front of her. _Ten more minutes... I said I wouldn't go until closing, and I won't. Ten more minutes... _The combination of the odor of old parchment and dust was making her wheezy; she sneezed several times in abrupt succession. 

The door in front of the shop opened, and she heard the cheerful tinkle of bells. _Dammit, I forgot to lock the door. _

"We're closed," she called, not bothering to keep the irritation from her voice. 

She became aware that something was wrong when the bells failed to jingle again. Annoyed, she turned around, prepared to blow up at the person if the need arose.

Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway.

"We're _closed_," she repeated stupidly. 

"So Potter was right," he muttered. 

"What?"

"Nothing."

They stared at each other for a minute, Draco looking oddly satisfied, Ginny looking as though she was so weary that nothing could surprise her. Finally she spoke.

"Look, Draco, this is a _really_ bad time. I've had a very trying day, so if you'll excuse me-"

"First I'd like you to answer some questions."

Ginny yawned. "_Fine_. Anything to get out of here."

"Why'd you quit your job?"

"Because I'm very impulsive and acted without thinking. Still, I didn't appreciate Graham calling me an idiot."

He didn't ask her to clarify.

"So I overreacted," he said, apparently to himself. "But why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"It didn't occur to me that you'd care."

"Ginny- with all the security around Aurors- Graham wouldn't tell me a thing- I thought-" this was said in an angry shout. His expression was wavering uncertainly. 

She drew herself up to her full height, which was a good four inches shorter than he was. "Draco, I appreciate you being worried. Really. Can I _please_ leave? Can we please discuss this some other time?" _He was worried! He was! What does that mean?_

During this exchange, they'd gravitated towards each other without noticing it, and were now only inches apart. 

"Not yet," he said. 

_Well, if he's going to be that way I can play along. _"Draco, I told you before, this is _not_ a good time. Get out. Now."

He grabbed her shoulders. "I was _worried_, Ginny."

"Why?" she demanded. "You've never given me the slightest hint that you cared whether I was even _alive_ or not." 

Draco shook his head. "You're even more dense than I thought, aren't you?"

"Evidently."

He stared at her, a mixture of anger and... something else on his face. 

"Would you mind letting go of me?"

"What if I said yes?"

"What if I put you in a full body bind and left you here?" Ginny spat. 

"You won't."

She was tempted to do it, just to prove him wrong. She reached for her wand.

And then stopped completely, realizing that he was pulling her even closer to himself. She was startled, but she knew what was coming and every thought of struggling was pushed to the back of her mind, overcome by an intense longing as he pushed his lips forcefully against her own. 

Startled, she broke away and stared at him. Even though the kiss had only lasted several seconds they were both gasping for breath. He looked as shocked as she felt. 

"Let go of me," she hissed. "Now."

He seemed frozen. "Ginny-"

"I said _now_, Malfoy, or you'll wish you'd never come in here."

Instantly he let go of her. She flew out of the shop, heedless of the fact that Draco was still there and the door was unlocked.

***

He'd kissed her. Oh, God, he'd done the one thing he'd most wanted to do and made her horrendously angry. Yet that old feeling of dissatisfaction... that utter uselessness, had been gone. He'd been aware for a few weeks that it was stilled whenever he was in her presence and for a glorious half a minute it had evaporated.

What was that he'd said about losing his temper?

_"The day I lose my temper completely is the day I fall head over heels in love with _you_, Weasley." _

"Oh shit," he said to the empty room. "Oh _shit_." 

No. He was a Malfoy, she was a Weasley, this was impossible. 

Fuck impossible. This was... this was... he tried to force the word _wrong_ to come to his mind, but it wouldn't. Whatever this was, it wasn't wrong. Whatever it was, it could never be wrong, probably for the reason that most people he knew would think it was the biggest mistake of his life. 

But God, those _eyes_. That quietly smoldering anger- she'd dared to be openly angry with _him_, and not just because he was Draco Malfoy, but because _he_, personally made her angry, and because she got some insane pleasure out of angering him. And somehow he couldn't resist fueling it. 

But why _her_? 

Disclaimer: IT'S ALL MINE! MUAHAHAHAHA! And if you believe that, I really don't wanna know what kind of medication you're taking. Sylvia Forbes belongs to me, and I'm aware she's a ditz. She was meant to be a ditz. I've listened to 'Little Good-Byes' several times in a row now, and really need someone to talk me out of doing a songfic to it because I know it'd turn out horribly. Oh, and I've found the official Draco/Pansy song for this series; 'I Wanna Talk About Me' by Toby Keith. I heard it and I was like 'Whoa! It's Draco and Pansy!' And last Sunday I was feeling hyper so I put Christina Aguilera into my CD player, set repeat on 'When You Put Your Hands on Me,' turned it up really loudly and danced throughout the house and it occurred to me that it fits D/G really well. I realize how stupid I make myself sound in my A/N's, so I'd best shut up. 

Thanks to: Anjeline, Lindsey, Tabbycat2000, FeatherQuill, (Cool name, by the way!) Satans Little Princess, Lily Shouk, rocket_queen_12 (I dunno if they've really hooked up yet... but anywhoozles...) legallyblonde, DarkKnight, (He really can be quite cute at times, can't he?) and Morrigan_932 (Love the moving smilies! I'm far too easily amused, no?) 

*Hands out raspberry Crème Savers to everyone, because she has a sharing problem where her Wint-O-Greens are concerned.* 


	5. Holiday

A/N: Erm... no Draco in this part. Sorry. Wish I could have gotten past it, but this is an extremely important chapter and reasons that may or may not make sense, Draco would have messed things up. I promise I'll make up for the lack of Draco/Ginny interaction in part six. (And when I say make up for it, I mean big time) This wasn't easy to write, probably as it bridges two 'stages' in the story, and also serves as the beginning of something resembling actual plot. 

__

You ought to know by now that I don't wait around

Drag my heels, hold my breath and hang out underground

You think I think too much, I think we'll wait and see

From here to there I'll take a piece of all that's in between

Never say never and don't wait forever

It's an open mind that sees that now is the time

To take a chance, take a shot, take control of the situation

I can't stand around here telling you 

About the things I've done and what I got to do

So are you on the bus or not?

'Cause we're leaving the station

Don't leave yourself behind and don't get in the way

Tomorrow's coming fast to take away today

You say I want too much, but I want you to see

That if you want to come with me, you're gonna have to leave

Never say never and don't wait forever

It's an open mind that sees that now is the time

To take a chance, take a shot, take control of the situation

I can't stand around here telling you

About the things I've done and what I got to do

So are you on the bus or not?

'Cause we're leaving the station

'Cause we're leaving the station...

So are you on the bus

So are you on the bus or not

'Cause we're leaving the station...

You think I think too much, I think we'll wait and see

From here to there I'll take a piece of all that's in between

Never say never and don't wait forever

It's an open mind that sees that now is the time

To take a chance, take a shot, take control of the situation

I can't stand around here telling you

About the things I've done and what I got to do

So are you on the bus or not?

'Cause we're leaving the station

Leaving the station...

Evan and Jaron- On the Bus 

__

The Muggle radio, Arthur Weasley's latest piece of 'rescued' equipment, was playing 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' and Ginny was ready to fling the damn thing out the window. The song's message was working on just about every person in the Burrow except her- apparently whoever had written the song had meant 'We wish you a merry Christmas, unless of course you happen to be Virginia Weasley.'

It was Christmas Eve and her parents had insisted that every one of their children stay at their house for the holiday, along with Harry and Hermione. Normally Ginny would have loved this, but it meant that it was impossible to get five minutes at a time to herself. Ever since what she'd dubbed 'The Incident,' she'd become introspective, puzzling, analyzing, not wanting to talk to anyone lest they interrupt some new piece of debris that floated out of her churning sea of thought.

The living room was probably the worst place she could possibly be right now- Fred and George had begun a noisy game of Exploding Snap. She wasn't sure they'd noticed her; she thought she'd caught that oh-so-familiar 'Uh, oh, Ginny's thinking, leave her alone before she bites your head off' look from George, but she wasn't positive.

"It's snowing," she announced suddenly, sitting up on the sofa and looking out the window.

"We're related to a genius," Fred remarked absently. "It's called _winter_, Gin. Happens every year about this time." 

"I'm going outside," she said, attention still focused on the snow.

She grabbed her coat and boots from the back entry and stepped outdoors. The air was frosty and she entertained herself for a few moments by watching her own breath vaporize. 

_I wonder where Draco is?_

She shook her head vigorously. She was _not_ going to get on that track again. She needed something to do, some distraction...

She settled on building a snowman in the front yard.

It took about twenty minutes to build the actual structure and another ten to add arms and facial features. 

One of the pebbles dropped off, transforming the snowman's cheerful grin into a mocking sneer. Ginny contemplated for a moment then realized it bore a scary resemblance to Draco.

"Erg!" 

She shrieked angrily and drew her hand back. Her aim was perfect, and its head flew a good six feet, landed in the road, and splattered.

Oddly satisfied, she turned back to the house. 

"Ginny! Where were you?" Her mother was busily moving around the kitchen. 

"Outside."

"Doing what?"

"Oh," Ginny replied absently. "Just thinking."

"Hermione's looking for you, dear. She's upstairs, I think."

Ginny shrugged her coat off and deposited it on its respective hook before heading up the stairs. "Hermione?"

"In here." The voice came from Ginny's own bedroom, which the two of them were sharing. 

Ginny stepped inside. Hermione was curled up in an old armchair, clad in jeans and a sweater. She was barefoot, a book open on her lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. Ginny allowed to herself that she was jealous- it had been a couple of years since she regularly used this room, but it was _hers_. 

"Something wrong?"

Ginny flopped on her bed. "Just me being territorial."

Hermione laughed. "You? Territorial?"

"Comes with being the only girl in a family with six- five brothers. You protect what's yours." 

"You miss Charlie." Damn. Trust Hermione to catch that slip-up. 

"Yeah."

Hermione shifted positions. "I know something's bothering you, Gin."

"Good for you." Ginny began picking at the lint on her sleeve, wondering if there was a de-fuzzing spell she could use. 

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

Hermione picked up her book again. "All right." 

After several minutes, Ginny couldn't take it any more. "Fine, fine, I'll talk."

Her friend set her book down, unable to hide a triumphant smile. "So what's wrong?" 

Ginny thought for a moment about how she'd word this. Jumping straight into the explanation might not be wise. "Everything. I told you about the whole balding-idiot situation, right?"

"Yes. Does this have to do with it?"

"Sort of." She buried her head in her knees. "The problem is, I've got the power to get _so_ many people angry with me, and I can't even enjoy it."

Hermione stifled a laugh. "What happened?"

"It wasn't my fault," Ginny evaded. 

"Okay, Gin, it wasn't your fault. Now what happened?"

Ginny mumbled something unintelligible. 

"What?"

"I said Draco Malfoy kissed me." _God, I sound like I'm five years old. Don't go near boys, Ginny, they have cooties... _

Hermione inhaled sharply. "Oh. That's..." she moved her mouth for a moment without making any sound. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

"Well I can _see_ how you'd be angry- you _are_ angry, aren't you?"

"More than I ever have been." She paused. "I haven't even told you the worst part."

"It gets worse?"

"Much worse." Ginny stretched out and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow, then mumbled something else that Hermione couldn't understand.

"What?"

"I said the worst part is, I enjoyed it." 

"You enjoyed it," Hermione repeated.

"Very much so."

"Draco Malfoy kissed you," Hermione said, "and you enjoyed it?" 

I believe we've established that fact, Hermione. Could we please move on?"

"But how-" Hermione shook her head. "I just don't see how you could enjoy it! I mean, he can't be all bad, Harry doesn't seem to think so-"

"Oh _Harry_," Ginny interrupted with disgust. "I'm tired of everyone going by _Harry's_ opinions. Just because he's the bloody Boy who Lived. I know for a fact that Harry hates pickles and I happen to love them. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No, but I trust Harry's judgement more than most people." 

"Harry's judgement has _nothing_ to do with this," Ginny snapped. "I'm leaving."

"All right."

It occurred to Ginny that she was storming out of her own bedroom, and also that she'd been rather unfair to Hermione, but she wasn't feeling reasonable. 

Storming down the hallway, she nearly ran head-on into Harry. 

"Sorry, Gin," he said, and continued.

"Sure," she muttered and continued on her way. Suddenly, she pivoted and asked "Can I talk to you about something?"

***

The temperature outside hadn't climbed since she'd gone in- if anything it had grown colder. 

"Ginny?" 

She glanced sideways at Harry, thinking. "Over there." She pointed to a pine tree. It took him a minute before he figured out what she meant, and he followed her and began climbing up the branches after her. 

"Why are we up here?"

"Privacy. This is important." Her branch swayed with the wind and she nearly fell off, then managed to right herself. 

"What's going on?" 

Ginny didn't answer. Harry tried again. "Ginny?"

"Why _me_?" she burst out. 

"Why you?" Harry asked. "I don't think I understand."

"You wouldn't." She ripped a glove off with her teeth and began fussing with her coat's zipper. 

"Gin?"

"I want you to tell me the truth about the whole situation with Draco Malfoy not being evil simply because _you_ don't think so." _Well that was an interesting way of putting things._

Harry blinked. "Um..."

"Well?" She faced him angrily.

"I think," he said slowly, "that the only person who has any right to explain that is Draco himself."

Ginny thought for a moment. "I'm really starting to think that being evil would have its benefits. Then I could just torture it out of you."

Harry laughed uncertainly, unsure whether or not she was joking. Judging by the death glare she shot him, she wasn't. 

***

Ginny managed to fake her way through the rest of the evening, complementing her mother on her cooking skills, laughing automatically when the twins magically gave Ron's hair a red and green Christmas motif without him noticing, pretending to listen to Percy's droning. 

She was extremely grateful when it grew late enough for her to excuse herself and go to bed, but found she couldn't sleep. The past week's events kept weaving themselves into her thoughts, making it impossible to drift off...

After several hours, she grew fed up and decided to go downstairs; perhaps she'd be able to find something to read on the bookcase. She noticed that Hermione had never returned to her room and briefly wondered why, but decided it wasn't her business.

At first glance she thought the living room was empty, but within seconds she became aware of the sound of breathing. She moved further into it. 

Harry and Hermione were curled up on an old recliner, both blissfully asleep. His arm was thrown over her protectively, and her head was resting under his chin. An odd emotion, part sadness, part jealousy, swelled up inside Ginny and she felt an odd burning at the back of her throat. 

She headed back to her room, blinking away tears. She still couldn't sleep. 

***

Christmas was Ginny's favorite day of the whole year, and even with the culmination of recent events she managed to enjoy it. After opening presents and eating breakfast, she ended up being dragged outside by Hermione, who had been talked into having a snowball fight by Ron and Harry and didn't want to face them alone. They spent a few hours generally acting like hyperactive eight-year-olds and eventually collapsed, exhausted, on a pile of shoveled snow near the front walk. 

Ginny was lying on her back, staring at the clouds. She briefly wondered if Draco was enjoying Christmas then decided no, dammit, this was _her_ holiday and she was going to spend it without him ruining it. 

Hermione was sitting next to her, knees folded against her chest. Ginny grinned at her and said, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Hermione smiled back. "It's okay."

She rolled over and faced Harry, who looked rather confused. "Harry, I owe you an apology as well."

"Don't worry about it, Gin."

Mystified, Ron asked, "Did I miss something?"

"Aren't you always missing something?" Ginny asked. "Although if you feel left out, Ronnikins, I suppose I could offer you an apology that you were ever born." She rolled over on her back once again. "That cloud looks like a walrus."

Still confused, Ron appealed to his friends and said, "No more eggnog for Ginny, okay?"

"It was the fruitcake, really," Ginny replied, noticing that she seemed to have a great deal of manipulation over this conversation, and loving it. She giggled and closed her eyes, then felt something icy cover her face- Ron has covered it in snow. She swore at him then sprang up and snatched an icicle off the garage roof, then began sucking on it.

"You really shouldn't eat those," Hermione said. 

"Don't care." She bit off a piece then tossed the rest into the snow. "I'm going inside." 

The second she was in the door, she ducked back out and said, "It's okay, you can have you're 'What's wrong with Ginny' conversation without me listening. I know the spiel by heart anyway." Giggling madly, she shut the door.

***

Once again Ginny couldn't sleep.

She lay on the sofa downstairs, idly flipping through the book Hermione had given her for Christmas. _Sleep_, she told herself. _You need to sleep. _

Someone stumbled in. Immediately, Ginny dropped her book and closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She didn't want either of her parents catching her awake at three o'clock in the morning, lest they give her the 'I'm worried about you, Ginny' talk. 

"Can't sleep either?"

She opened her eyes. Bill. Bill was safe, Bill wouldn't lecture her. Bill, next to Ron, was probably the brother she was closest to, perhaps because of the oldest-youngest child relationship.

"No," she admitted, sitting up to make room for him. "What's your excuse?"

"A lot of things." He stared at the fireplace, where a few feeble flames still licked at the remnants of logs. He muttered pointed his wand at it and muttered a spell, and it blazed up again. 

"How's Egypt?"

"That," Bill said, "is the one question I hate. I don't ask you 'How's Britain,' do I?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay." He yawned, and continued, "Egypt is... stressful"

"How?"

"Lot of suspicious activity. Gold's been disappearing. A couple of people got threatening letters. Anonymous, of course. You probably wouldn't have heard anything, as they're trying to keep it toned down."

"Dark wizards?"

"Who knows? After Harry killed You-Know-Who that kind of thing hasn't happened nearly as much. And if it does, the Ministry keeps it covered up." He glanced sideways at her. "Why're you up?"

"I can't sleep."

"Obviously. I heard about the whole Graham thing. You don't know why he doesn't like us, do you?"

"No idea."

"His grandfather was a big You-Know-Who supporter. Not many people know, he tries to keep it quiet. Dad did a raid on his house- his family lost a lot of money because of him."

"I didn't know that."

"I didn't think you did. I was only about ten at the time, you weren't even born. Apparently he carries grudges." 

"I never did like him." 

"Didn't think so. Can't say I blame you." He drifted into thought. "Any success with the job search?"

"Nope."

"Hmmmm." He shook his head. "Nah."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Ginny hated this kind of reaction to her questions. "Really, Bill, what were you going to say?"

"Have you heard of that school they opened in Egypt?" 

"Hermione was telling me about it a couple months ago." 

"You've always been good with kids, Ginny. Dad always thought you'd make a good teacher. Did you ever consider it?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I did." Being an Auror had held the attraction of being the first person in her family to do it. She allowed that that was one of her primary reasons- none of her brothers had done it first.

"You did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts, didn't you?"

"It was my best subject." 

"I wonder-" Bill paused. "They're short on staff.. I think if you applied for the position you'd have a good chance of getting it."

Ginny contemplated this, then said, "So what's wrong?"

"Can you imagine Mum's reaction if I took you there? You're her only daughter, her baby-"

"I'm perfectly capable of getting there on my own!"

"No," said Bill. "You aren't. It's in a protected spot- it's associated with Gringotts, since the parents of most of the students work there. And they're security freaks."

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to inform you that I'm going with you whether you like it or not."

Bill sighed. "You've known about this, what, three minutes? And you've already made a decision? Ginny, that's not nearly enough time to think this over rationally."

"Rational thought," Ginny said, "is highly overrated. If you're rational all the time you never have any fun."

Bill gave her a withered look. "I'm going up to bed. Somehow I feel tired now." He glanced back at her. "Try to get some sleep, Gin. I'm leaving at nine, with or without you." 

***

The day after Christmas was always depressing for Ginny, but this year she was the first person in the house up. She'd managed to get a couple of hours' rest, complicated with strange dreams that involved her decapitated snowman coming back to haunt her. 

"Ginny? What's the rush?" Her mother asked. "I know you're going home today, but don't you at least have time to eat breakfast?" 

"Already ate, Mum." She hadn't- she'd been too nervous, but her mother didn't need to know that.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked curiously. 

"Everything's great," Ginny replied, with a little too much emphasis on the word _great_. "I've got to go, bye everyone!"

'Everyone' consisted of her mother and Percy, who was just coming down the stairs.

Back in her apartment, Ginny rushed around, shoving enough clothes for a few days into a suitcase. She checked her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bathroom. She was wearing one green and orange striped sock and one blue one patterned with pink flowers, and her ponytail was crooked. She didn't care- she had just enough time to Apparate back to the Burrow and think of some excuse story pertaining to her return. 

A knock sounded on the door.

Annoyed, Ginny almost didn't answer it but changed her mind. It was lucky that she did, because Bill was standing at the door.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Is a simple 'hello' too much to ask?" she replied.

"It is when the train leaves in five minutes and you've taken a detour to pick up your sister because you know she's too disorganized to be on time on her own." He smiled at her. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"Your socks don't match."

"I know." She stepped outside and shut the door. "Shall we go?"

"We have to. _Now_." He glanced impatiently at his watch. "Let's move."

Ginny turned the key in the lock and followed him down the hall. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, unless of course it's something that's mine that was mentioned in previous chapters. 

Next Chapter: Lots and lots of Draco, snogging, the return of someone you probably thought was gone for good, more actual plot development, and those annoying pop-up tents that you're supposed to be able to put up in five minutes but naturally can't because you're missing a pole or else the ground's too hard for the stupid plastic stakes and they snap in half or won't go in at all. And we find out more about Draco's shady past.

Thanks to: legallyblonde (It'll happen again and soon), silverdragon778 (Well, here it is...), darker child (Wait a few chapters and see if you really want to fight Ginny for him!), DaemonGirl (Does your name by any chance have to do with the His Dark Materials series?) Reia (Gush must be put to death alongside good Draco. Wanna help?), Ophelia (Yes, I remembered. Draco just didn't think there was anyone better out there. He's beginning to see how wrong he is), rocket_queen_12 (You check that often? I must say, I'm honored!) Gemini Mari Finalle (So am I; she's one of my favorites), Artemis Tigre (Chocolate rules! Go hyperness!) and Lynwood (It amused you that much? I might actually do it. And you called my story ART! That's just about the best review I've ever gotten!) 

Another really important note: No, Draco is not going to die, nor is Ginny. I don't care if I'm giving anything away, but one or two people have expressed concern and you can trust that I'd never ever do that to them. If anyone dies, it'll be someone who is portrayed in a negative way in this series. 

Plus Draco and Ginny are fun to write.


	6. Five Minute Warning

A/N: This took a looong time to get out. Sorry. I'm not going to make excuses, because I think the less I say about my procrastination and busy schedule the better. And Draco's back. That should make everyone happy. 

Who doesn't know what I'm talking about?

Who's never left home, never struck out

To find a dream and a life of their own

A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone

Many precede and many will follow

A young girl's dream no longer hollow

It takes the shape of a place out west

But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed

She needs wide open spaces

Room to make her big mistakes

She needs new faces

She knows the high stakes

She traveled this road as a child

Wide-eyed and grinning she never tired

But now she won't be coming back with the rest

If these are life's lessons, she'll take this test

She needs wide open spaces

Room to make her big mistakes

She needs new faces

She knows the high stakes

As her folks drive away her dad yells, "Check the oil!"

Mom stares out the window and says, "I'm leaving my girl."

She says it didn't seem like that long ago

When she stood there and let her own folks know

She needs wide open spaces

Room to make her big mistakes

She needs new faces

She knows the high stakes

She knows the high stakes

She knows the high stakes...

Dixie Chicks- Wide Open Spaces

She'd disappeared again, but this time it didn't matter. 

Or, not as much, as Draco was completely confident that he knew where she'd gone. 

The day after Christmas, which he'd spent alone at Malfoy Manor, Draco finally admitted to himself that maybe, just maybe Ginny had a right to be angry with him. 

Admitting that he _was_ wrong was a painful process, and one that Draco Malfoy avoided at all costs. Being wrong, naturally, meant that the other person was right. Meaning a Weasley held something over a Malfoy.

Admitting that he wanted something he couldn't have was far worse- worse, even, than realizing that he wanted something that he shouldn't dream of wanting. 

The day after Christmas, Draco finally decided that maybe, just maybe, talking to Ginny could actually help work things out. 

It wasn't until he was at the door of the apartment building that he realized he had no idea which one was hers- he wasn't completely sure this was the right building, really. Ginny had once said something about living in this general area and he was just making an inference based on a few offhand comments. 

There! A flash of red hair, going down the sidewalk, out the side exit. Who was that with her? What right had she to be walking with some other guy? 

Every right in the world, he told himself sternly. He relaxed when he realized that it was her brother. The one who worked for Gringotts. 

The one who lived in Egypt. 

Not stopping to evaluate how it would look if he ran into someone he knew, Draco followed them down several blocks until they arrived at a train station. He lost sight of them again until he caught a glimpse of them moving through a solid wall- a hurried movement that no one would have noticed unless they were actively looking for it. 

So. She was going to Egypt. 

There was a rather insultingly simple solution to this problem. 

Go to Egypt.

***

It seemed deeply wrong to Ginny, who was in love with Christmas and everything connected, to slide straight out of the holiday-induced euphoria and straight past the one or two required days of depression after it was over.

However, for the next day or so she was so incredibly busy she had no choice. The job interview with the Egyptian school's Headmistress went smoothly, but then there was about a week or so until she'd find anything out. 

Bill and his group of fellow Gringot's employees were camped out on a patch of desert, made unplottable and therefor invisible to Muggles. There were probably about twenty people in the party, and they were all sick of one another to the extent where they could appreciate a newcomer and overlook the fact that technically she wasn't supposed to be there. 

Ginny literally rolled out of the cot in the bedroom of her tent. Unintentionally, of course- she wouldn't have chosen to fall out of bed have her arm jabbed by a rock through the tent floor as a wake-up call. According to her watch, it was five-thirty a.m. 

Knowing that if she planned to eat that morning she'd need to be quick, Ginny quickly untangled herself from the sleeping bag and changed into the same jeans and t- shirt she'd worn the previous two days. She hadn't been able to clean anything, but for the camp's standards, her apparel was exceptionally clean. She didn't even bother looking for clean socks, which in this place were nonexistent. 

Bill was already sitting at a campfire accompanied by a friend of his; a tall, pale man named Adam. Ginny sat down near from them, and said, "Good morning."

"Morning," Bill said absently- he seemed distracted, as though he were very deep in thought.

"What's with him?" she asked Adam.

"Oh, nothing. Unless of course it's because _Anna's_ coming back today," he said emphatically. 

Ginny perked up. "Anna? Who's Anna?"

"Anna White is our residential beggar," Bill said. "In other words, she tries to sweet-talk the Ministry into financing our projects." 

"She's good at sweet-talking, eh Bill?" Adam muttered. 

Ginny brightened. "Ooh, Bill, you're finally listening to Mum?"

"Shut up, Ginny."

Ginny smirked. "Bill dear," she said in perfect imitation of their mother, "I'm aware that you're happy working out there in the desert, but aren't you ever going to think about settling down and starting a family?"

Adam was biting his tongue in a very poor attempt to conceal laughter. 

"Shall I go further?" Ginny asked. "There's always the 'your father and want grandchildren'" speech...

"There's nothing between me and Anna," Bill said.

Ginny nodded, feigning realization. "Oh, I get it. You're gay, aren't you Billy? Scared to tell Mum and Dad?"

"If I murder her, would you be willing to forget you witnessed it?" Bill asked Adam. 

"I don't know... she's rather entertaining." 

"You know you love me," Ginny said.

"Sure, Gin, just keep telling yourself that." 

"I'm your baby sister!"

"And I must have done something really horrible in a past life to deserve it."

"You sound like an old married couple," said Adam. "By the way, Bill, I got an owl from your love interest this morning."

"Must be a rather one-sided love interest if she's not owling Bill," Ginny muttered.

"She'll be back around noon, and some guy's coming with her. Looks like she finally talked someone into supplying the cash we need."

"You need money to find gold?" Ginny asked blankly.

"Finding gold's not the whole business, Gin," replied Bill. "I'm a curse-breaker, remember. I make sure nothing we dig up is going to make people grow extra toes. We need to hire people to put wards up around places, or make them unplottable- do you understand how much paperwork and time goes into that sort of thing? It costs a lot just to-"

"You sound like Percy," Ginny interrupted. 

"In that case, I'd better stop." Bill looked poked at the fire with his wand. "What're you planning on doing today, Gin?"

"Trying to find clothes I haven't sweated in," She replied immediately. 

"Good luck with that. But since no one's gonna be here this afternoon, would you mind looking out for Anna and whoever it is coming with her?"

"Sure. If I greatly offended her and made her decide to leave, what would you do?"

"Don't do it," Adam advised. "I don't think I'd want to watch."

***

A deserted patch of sand with smoke struggling out of abandoned firepits, and a collection of sagging pop-up tents. That was all that this camp was, really, yet Ginny didn't find it nearly as depressing as her apartment at home- probably because there was always something to do here, or someone to talk to. In fact, this was the first time in a week she'd been alone for more than half an hour at a time. 

She heard voices outside her tent, first a female, not quite intelligible but doing most of the talking, and another one that was distinctly male. 

She climbed awkwardly through the flap. 

And received one of the biggest surprises of her life. 

She composed herself just as the woman said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I know you?" 

"I'm Ginny Weasley," she said. "Bill's sister. I'm just temporarily staying here. You must be Anna?"

"Yes. Nice to meet you. This is..." she gestured to her companion.

"Draco Malfoy," he said calmly. "We've met." 

Anna shifted her gaze back and fourth between them before saying, "Well I think I'm going to excuse myself..." and hurrying away.

Ginny glared at Draco. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"At the moment," he replied, "I'm being unreasonably insulted by someone I don't know why I even bother with. Can't you even say hello?" 

She shook with anger for a moment "I don't know what you think you're doing," she breathed, "but leave me out of it. I don't even want to _look_ at you." 

"Ginny-"

"Stay away from me." 

She retreated to her tent, leaving Draco staring after her.

***

One of the things about Ginny that Draco found the most irritating was her tendency to react in anger to everything he did. The kiss in the back room of the bookstore proved that. That, however, had been spontaneous, and while he'd planned coming here, known what he was going to say, she had to blow up at him and make it impossible. 

It was evening, now, and Ginny was still punishing him by not coming out. That was what it felt like- she was so close and he couldn't go near her. Punishment. 

"So you're the one who's willing to finance our project? Draco Malfoy?"

Draco looked up. Bill Weasley was standing behind him.

"Yes," he replied shortly. 

"Mind if I sit down, or is this your patch of desert?"

Draco didn't respond, and Bill sat. "It might not be any of my business, but why'd you agree to it?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Bill nodded. "Lots of things do, don't they?"

Draco didn't think that Bill was being hostile, but he was definitely trying to probe him for information. "Just the ones that are the opposite."

"It seems to work out that way," Bill agreed. 

Draco looked at him, still trying to analyze his behavior. "Oh, just get out with it."

"Out with what?" Bill asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"What's going on with me and your sister, Weasley. Don't play dumb with me."

"It did cross my mind," Bill said, with infuriating calmness.

"Well there's nothing. She won't let me within ten feet of her." 

"Why not?"

"Because I'm me. Draco Malfoy. And she hates that." He thought about something, then said, "And why aren't you forbidding me to associate with her? I figured since the rest of your family hates me you'd naturally feel the same."

"Ginny's smart enough to make her own decisions," Bill said. "As for forbidding you to associate with her- I don't think there's any need. She won't let you within ten feet of her, remember?" Bill paused and watched Draco. "If you want, I could go talk to her. Try to get her to come out."

"You think she'll listen to you?"

Bill laughed ruefully. "I've been Ginny's brother long enough to know that getting her to listen can be as pointless as ramming your head against a wall. But I'll try."

For several minutes, Draco stared at the shadows on the inside of the tent wall. When Bill emerged, he shrugged and said, "She said she'll talk to you. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Ginny was standing rigidly in the front room, arms folded across her chest, staring stonily at the door. 

"Hello."

"What do you want?" She asked, consulting her watch. "You have five minutes. Make it quick."

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he began.

Her expression softened, but only a tiny bit.

"But," he continued, "I don't think there's any point." 

She gnashed her teeth together sharply, and said, "Get out."

"What happened to my five minutes?"

"You don't deserve them. Get out before I force you to." 

"That's hardly reasonable."

"Look Malfoy. I am in NO MOOD TO BE REASONABLE. Get OUT of my tent. NOW." 

He smiled, trying to appear amused. "And what if I don't?" 

WHAM. 

Draco took a few dizzy steps backward, then looked at Ginny. Her fist was still clenched and she looked extremely satisfied. "Was that really necessary?"

"You deserved it."

"Well now that we're even can I have my five minutes?" 

She sighed. Suddenly she looked extremely tired. "Well you're not going to go away until I let you." She sank down on the canvas floor and buried her face in her hands.

Wanting to be on the same level, Draco moved as close to her as he dared and sat. 

"I really am sorry, Ginny," he said quietly. 

"You should be," came her muffled reply.

"For everything," he continued. 

"Good." Slowly, she raised her head and looked at him. "For once, I think you mean it."

Slowly, he nodded. "I do."

"What I don't understand," she said, "is why you tracked me out here- giving up a good ammount of money to my brother's team, I'm guessing- just to apologize."

"I had nothing better to do."

She shook her head. "Can't you give me a serious answer?"

"But I didn't," he said. "You happen to be one of the few people I can stand to be around for an extended period of time. Maybe I've just gotten used to you. Good enough?"

"The money? What about that?"

He smiled bitterly. "I hardly made a dent in the Malfoy family fortune, if that's what you're asking." Without thinking he edged closer. "How are my five minutes coming?"

"They're gone."

"Well." He began to stand. "I guess this is goodnight."

"No!" she said abruptly, then blushed. "I mean, there's still a few things I want to ask you."

"You're willing to let me talk?"

"Don't make me change my mind."

Draco sat again. "What did you want to ask me?"

Ginny stared at him. Draco thought she was trying to figure out how to phrase something important. "I've been wondering about this for a long time."

He nodded, encouraging her. 

"I asked Harry Potter and he said that you were the only one with any right to explain," she went on.

"explain what?" 

"What exactly did you do to help him kill Voldemort?"

A sense of shock crept through Draco's body. _How did she find out about that? _He thought furiously. "Potter told you about- I'm going to kill-"

"No! Harry didn't tell me. Hermione did."

"Oh, so he told _her_. After he promised-"

"She doesn't know anything. She has the idea that you did something to help him, but only based on a few offhand comments after she asked."

Well at least Potter hadn't told her. He suddenly realized that he wouldn't mind Ginny knowing, but not from Potter. He _was_ the only one with any right to tell her anything about-

Ginny interrupted his thoughts, saying, "I don't know a thing. Really. Other than that you _did_ help Harry, and that you weren't a Death Eater like everyone thought you'd turn out to be."

A brief silence followed. Then; "What makes you think I wasn't a Death Eater?" Draco asked harshly.

Ginny blinked, startled. "Well I assumed-"

"Assuming things doesn't get you anywhere." 

"So were you a Death Eater?" 

"I never said I was," Draco said. "I'm not saying I wasn't. Do you want to know?"

"Yes," Ginny said honestly.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday," he said absently. "Not now. I trust you, but... not now."

"All right." She inched closer to him. "If you want to." 

Draco offered her the first genuine smile he'd given anyone in a very long time. It suddenly dawned upon him that here was a person whom he not only could stand to be around, but also felt completely comfortable with. There was no need to impress her, or insult her until she grew tired of him, because she'd see right through it. And he didn't really want her to grow tired of him. 

"Gin," he said, more to get her to face him than because he wanted to say something. 

They both knew what was coming. They studied each other's faces for a moment before closing the miniscule ammount of space between them and allowing themselves to move into the kiss. This time, Draco knew that she wouldn't grow furious, she wouldn't push him away, and she wouldn't abruptly leave the continent. And the feeling of absolute comfort increased, and for a brief moment, all was right with the world.

Then the tent flap opened, and Pansy Parkinson's voice screeched, "What the _hell_ is going on?" 

Disclaimer: Any Harry Potter people belong to J.K. Rowling. Anyone else is mine. (Actually my sister owns Adam's name. I was sitting there in my writer's block, and she walked by and I said "I need a guy's name!" and she said 'Adam,' without hesitation. I think he may be named after Adam Eddington from The Arm of a Starfish by Madeleine L'Engle, but I'm not completely sure.) 

Thanks to: Kun (wow, first review on MY fic!), Pyrobunnie, Amethyst (don't feed me to the killer yeast! NOOOO! Sounds cool, though. We got to extract DNA from wheat germ), Lunadaisy, Rocket_Queen_12 (he's back for good! I promise!), Shy Scorpion, Artemis Tiegr (frosting is good too. And Wint-O-Green lifesavers. And candy sticks.), Static, Baal_extremely_evil, Amanda Macini, and Tairamika (Insane giggling is fun! So is scaring people with mad scientist laughs like this: MUAHAHAHA!) 

I have forty-two reviews on fanfiction.net! My favorite number! Feel free to mess it up, though. Merry Christmas everyone! 


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